


Let Me Give You My Life

by Swiggity_swydra_fuck_hydra (Haych_Aych_Ach)



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: M/M, Pet Names, Puppy Play, Service Submission, Weird Kinks Being Cute, idk even
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-25
Updated: 2016-04-25
Packaged: 2018-06-04 09:43:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6652831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Haych_Aych_Ach/pseuds/Swiggity_swydra_fuck_hydra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for a prompt on the Daredevil kink meme:</p><p>"Exactly what's on the tin--Frank being Matt's guide/guard/emotional support dog/service animal in a very kinky way. Affectionate but, uhm, dommy petplay please :)"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let Me Give You My Life

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: the actions characters take in this story, the things they are into, and how they behave is not a reflection on the author or commenter/reader's own beliefs, interests, morals, personality, etc. Fiction is fiction. What some characters like to do and what they think is right is not necessarily correlating with reality or truth, etc.

Matt's curled up in his bed when Frank comes over.

He'd texted the single codeword they had established in case of this-- _horndog_ \--and lay in bed, suit and all. Matt hadn't even taken his glasses off or gotten a glass of distilled water.

That was the kind of day he'd had, yeah.

And Frank comes over, Matt can hear him carefully open the door and then shut it, and then the next thing Matt knows, Frank's crawling slowly over to him, keys in mouth, naked.

"Huh?" Matt says for a second, confused. Then he realizes, and _oh_. "Good dog," he says instead, reaching out to gently scritch Frank. "Good boy."

Frank nudged at his hand, nosing at Matt, gentle and inquiring. Matt puts the keys in his bedside table.

"I've had a bad day," Matt murmurs, and strokes Frank's hair. It's okay, it's okay, he's safe. "Fetch water bottle," and Frank crawls away to obey.

When he comes back with not _just_ a water bottle carefully balanced in his mouth, but also a granola bar, Matt grins brightly as Frank deposits them carefully into his hands.

"Good _boy_ ," Matt cooes, putting them down to rub and stroke at Frank's hair. "Good, good boy," he says, massaging his scalp. "My good boy. You're so good at this now, at all your training," Matt says, letting his well-guarded affection leak out. "Such a good boy."

Matt sits up to eat it and drink some water. Then he pats the bed beside him. "Up," he says, "On the bed, up," and Frank jumps up carefully.

"Good boy," Matt says, and gently pulls Frank's head so his muzzle is lying on Matt's thigh. Matt idly traces over his neck, and wonders if he ought to get Frank an even better collar. This one is mostly just functional, soft leather, but it's not personal enough.

"Maybe I should get you a better collar," Matt says out loud, rubbing under Frank's chin. "With a special tag that says you're all mine. Maybe a little reflective strip?"

Frank nudges at the granola bar and water bottle with his nose. Matt laughs. "Good boy, reminding me," he says, and strokes Frank's hair as he unwraps the bar and eats it. As he does, he pets his special, good dog with his other hand, and then drinks the water bottle.

Some of the exhausted headache goes away at that. Matt sighs, and puts it to the side.

"Fetch condoms," he orders, and Frank slides off the bed and gets them with his teeth--one then two then three, and Matt stops him. "That's enough, silly boy," he says, teasingly, and then, "Fetch lube," and Frank does, dropping it into Matt's hand.

"Good boy," Matt praises, patting the bed. Frank jumps up. " _Good_ boy," he says again, ruffling his hair and drawing him close. "You're so good for me, getting things with your mouth like a good dog," Matt says. "Good, good boy. My good boy, all for me. Who's my good boy? Who's my good boy? Who's a good boy?"

Matt's not good with facial expressions, particularly right now when he's wrung out and letting Frank be a combination service-guard dog, but he knows, somehow, that it's genuine confusion, because this is a sticking point. This is Frank's crucifix that he's nailed himself to.

"It's you!" Matt says, in the half-baby-talk tone people use for their dogs, "It's you! You're my good boy!" and kisses Frank hard, over and over and over until Frank's tongue is lolling out and he's panting, flushing.

Matt grins and says, brightly, "You've earned some tummy rubs. Turn over."

Frank does, and oh, good. "That praise got you a little excited, huh?" Matt says, happily expecting no answer. He traces over Frank's erection and hears the whimper.

"Oh, good boy," Matt says. "Good, good boy. I think you've earned a treat. Would my good boy like to be inside me after I rub his tummy?"

Frank's eyes widen audibly, and he barks in affirmative. Matt laughs.

"Alright," he says, and rubs Frank's tummy with one hand while using the other to start fumbling with his suit. He eventually has to stop to take it all of properly and flings it over to the floor, ignoring how it'll require ironing later. Whatever.

Once Matt's naked, and grinning, he tells Frank, "Lie down on your back and put your paws onto the headboard. Hold onto it."

Frank maneuvers himself instantly, the smell of his erection tickling the inside of Matt's nose. Matt smiles in anticipation, says, "Good boy, so good for me," and ruffles his hair before prepping himself quickly.

Then he straddles Frank carefully, sinking down slowly onto his cock, and the headboard creaks but Frank doesn't let go of it.

"Good boy," Matt says softly. "Such a good boy. My good boy. Stay," he says firmly, traces a hand over Frank's side, pets his flank. " _Stay_ ," he emphasizes.

Frank stays still as Matt lifts himself up and then back down, moaning.

"Good boy," Matt gasps as he starts to move properly. "Good, good boy, my perfect good dog, god, all mine mine all mine _mine_ , my good boy, only for me, I trust you so much," Matt says, leaning back and squirming as he finds the right angle.

Frank's body trembles, but he keeps being good. "I trust you," Matt says, throwing his head back. "I trust you, you're so good, my guard dog and my service dog and maybe we should go somewhere else like this one day, with your new shiny collar on or not, maybe with it in a club and you on a leash so everyone can see what a good guide dog you are," Matt says, groaning.

"Or just without the collar, you can lead me around somewhere and I can-- _oh_ \--I can just, just rely on you, and I trust you to be good because you're _so_ good, my good guide dog, my perfect good boy, I want to show you off and give you commands and have everyone know how good you are," Matt says, and Frank shivers wildly.

Matt bounces and bounces and comes, shaking, whispering, " _Good_ boy."

Frank's still hard inside him, still waiting, and Matt grins wildly. He slips up off him, wincing for a second, and then he gets a great idea, going onto his own hands and needs on the bed.

"Frank, clean me out," Matt says firmly, waiting and--

And there Frank is, lapping and licking at him, licking up the lube and the come because Matt forgot the condom, cleaning up his mess.

"Such a good boy, good boy," Matt babbles. "Good boy, cleaning--cleaning up your messes, _good_ dog Frank," he says, legs twitching with the near-overstimulation.

As Frank does it, Matt gulps in a deep breath and says, "Good dogs can hump the bed, go ahead and come when you're ready," he says, and Frank does, letting out little animal whines as he keeps licking at Matt but now his hips are jerking against the bed, and Matt gasps and grins as Frank eventually howls and comes.

Then Matt says, "Stop," and Frank stops. Matt rolls over onto his back, and opens his arms. "Come here," he says, and Frank obediently crawls into his arms, shaking.

"Good boy," Matt murmurs, hugging him tight. "Good boy. You take such good care of me, I like taking care of my good boy," he says, and reaches for the covers. He pulls them up over them and falls asleep, knowing Frank will still listen for noises and guard Matt's home.

Later, after the nap, Matt starts browsing for collars as he orders Thai food. Frank stays in the bedroom as Matt gets the money for the delivery guy in nothing but boxers--he knows Matt, he doesn't care--and shuts the door.

The second he whistles for Frank, he comes crawling over, almost growling, sniffing furiously at Matt's hands. Matt laughs.

"Oh, is my good dog all suspicious of strangers?"

Frank snarls. Matt sighs. "Frank, heel," he says, and Frank does after a long second.

"Good boy. Now, I know you're just doing your job being good for me, guarding me, but no growling just because someone shook my hand. No," Matt says firmly. "Now, roll over, I'm going to feed you," and Matt feeds Frank bites and scraps straight from his hand.

Frank never, ever bites.


End file.
